


you've got some nerve

by legendaryguitarman



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Daddy Kink, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-29 03:51:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10845906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendaryguitarman/pseuds/legendaryguitarman
Summary: jongin is not sure what it is he loves about what they have, but it sends hot shivers over his body as chanyeol walks down the hallway with long, unhurried strides and jongin is barely able to stop himself from collapsing onto the floor and rubbing himself against the carpet until he comes.





	you've got some nerve

Jongin is not sure what it is that he loves about what they have. He doesn’t know why he loves the fire that is flickering in his gut, loves being red-faced and flushed in front of Chanyeol, but it sends shivers over his body as Chanyeol walks down the hallway with long, unhurried strides and Jongin is barely able to stop himself from collapsing onto the floor and rubbing himself against the carpet until he comes. Like a dog in heat, Sehun usually laughs when Jongin talks about Chanyeol, and as many times as Jongin has told him to shut up, he has never denied it because really, it’s true. Chanyeol sparks something inside him, makes him want to please Chanyeol so badly, because Chanyeol is his daddy and he is Chanyeol’s baby boy.

At the beginning of the year, Jongin would’ve never imagined that the man who had been standing at the front of the lecture hall, dressed in a dark green sweater with glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, would be the same man whom he would spend the following months jerking off to at night, hand under the covers and teeth sunk into the pillow. The same man who would later whisper the dirtiest things into his ears as stars spotted his vision, who would fuck him hard whilst he begged Daddy for more. The same man who is unyielding with an air of control, who is surprisingly sweet in the morning and gives the best cuddles. The same man who is, right now, pushing open the door of the bedroom and walking in without a single glance backwards.

He knows Jongin is behind him; Jongin follows like an obedient puppy that begs and yearns for praise, and both of them know it. The slight age gap and Chanyeol being the TA of his class means nothing to him. Chanyeol is alluring in every way possible and speaks with command in his voice; when his lips sing, it makes Jongin want to throw himself at Chanyeol’s feet and begged to be fucked. There is something about Chanyeol that makes Jongin’s skin burn when Chanyeol’s stare lingers, unable to avoid Jongin’s half-lidded eyes or the irresistible shine of his mouth as he bites his bottom lip, but the tease is only the beginning of the game. The fun part comes afterwards.

With bated breath, Jongin waits by the door, unsure of where he’s supposed to stand or what he’s supposed to do because Chanyeol— _Daddy_ —hasn’t told him yet. It’s unusually nerve-racking for a scene that’s so familiar as Chanyeol stands in front of the full-length mirror leaned up against the wall of the room, paying him no attention. Taking off his glasses, Chanyeol folds them neatly and tucks them away into their case, placing it on the table. Everything he does is methodical; there’s a calculated ease as Chanyeol’s fingers hook around the knot of his tie and loosens it just enough so he can tug it off, and Jongin swallows thickly when Chanyeol drapes it over the desk chair and deftly undoes the top few buttons of his shirt, the light catching on his sharp collarbones.

Finally, he sits on the side of the bed and fixes Jongin with a hard stare. Jongin doesn’t dare to breath—and then, Chanyeol calls him over wordlessly with a beckoning finger and Jongin stops just before him, feeling blazing hot all over. Chanyeol sweeps his eyes up and down his body with no betrayal of his thoughts, in the same way as he might appraise one of Jongin’s dissertations, and suddenly, Jongin’s mouth feels dry.

“Show me again,” Chanyeol says. “Daddy wants to see, Jongin.”

 _Show me again._ Less than an hour ago, they had been in the same position in the lecture hall after everyone had left.

 _Taking pictures of yourself, Jongin? I wonder who else you were going to send them to. You know Daddy doesn’t like it when you play with other boys,_ Chanyeol had said, words light and tone carefully casual, but Jongin had recognised the thinly-veiled possessiveness, especially when Chanyeol had given him a dark look from behind the desk.

 _No one, Daddy,_ Jongin had said, diffidently. _I took them for you._ The anticipation had been simmering in his stomach, slowly rising.

Chanyeol had raised an eyebrow. _Mmm,_ he’d said, _and why should I believe you, Jongin? You’re such a bad, bad boy, wearing nothing but panties. I bet you’re even wearing them right now…_

 _I—_ Jongin had started to say. Then, he’d thought better of it and pushed down his words. _I am._

 _Show me,_ Chanyeol had said. _Show Daddy your panties, Jongin. Daddy wants to see._

Despite having shown Chanyeol earlier, Jongin’s hands are still clumsy with nerves as he pushes away the button of his jeans and fumbles with the zipper. His pants are tight so it takes a bit of effort to pull them down, and then, they’re pooled around his ankles and he’s standing there, half-naked with white panties around his hips.

His cock is hard, has been aching for Chanyeol’s touch ever since Chanyeol had promised to spank him for being a _bad, bad boy, aren’t you, Jongin?_ and it’s tight against the thin material of his panties, an obvious bulge at the front. The lace patterning is delicate against his skin and Chanyeol reaches out to trail his fingers over the sharp jut of his hipbones lightly. There isn’t anything particularly feminine about Jongin’s body; he’s all gangly limbs that he’s never quite grown into, but his legs are long and he’s often been told that his face, if he’d put more effort into it, is a striking resemblance to his sister’s. But the way Chanyeol is touching him, as if he will shatter if Chanyeol presses any harder, makes him feel fragile. He likes the attention, the hot flush of his cheeks as Chanyeol traces the spiderwebs of white and pulls him closer. When Chanyeol strokes the nape of his neck and cups his jaw, his breath stops. When Chanyeol kisses him, he shudders.

Chanyeol kisses exactly the same way as he holds himself. There’s no hesitance, no preamble, no uncertainty. His mouth is hot as he sucks on Jongin’s lower lip, taking control, and it’s not nearly enough for Jongin when, after a moment, Chanyeol breaks away to announce he’s going to take a shower. The need has multiplied by tenfold now that Jongin has had a taste, but he resists the urge to whine and chase Chanyeol’s mouth, and a ghost of a smile flitters on Chanyeol’s lips. Jongin’s chest swells with pride.

“Are you going to be a good boy and stay here for me? Can you at least do that?” says Chanyeol, with a firmness that tells Jongin he’s not asking a question. It’s a statement; it’s a command.

The other unspoken demand hangs in the wake of Chanyeol’s words: _Don’t touch yourself whilst I’m gone._ Jongin nods.

“Yes,” he says. Defiance is an option and there is always the want to fight back, to push against the tide, but he’s already been bad enough today and the tone of Chanyeol’s voice tells Jongin he’s in no mood for playing around. Jongin knows what Daddy will do when Jongin disobeys him.

“Yes _, who?_ ”

Jongin looks at the floor. “Yes, Daddy.”

Chanyeol is sitting down and he isn’t that much taller than Jongin when he’s standing, but Jongin feels so small as he focuses his eyes on his socks. “You should look at me when I’m talking to you,” Chanyeol says, and there’s a hint of amusement at how quickly Jongin’s head snaps up to catch his gaze. “Do you think you deserve to call me Daddy today? After how naughty you’ve been? Do you think you deserve to be Daddy’s baby boy?”

“No,” says Jongin. “No, Sir.”

Chanyeol regards him with an incomprehensible look. “Better,” he says, standing up.

He makes his way towards the door; it’s a small, cosy apartment and the bathroom is just outside the hall. As he leaves the room, he glances over his shoulder, back at Jongin as if he’s about to say something else, then closes the door behind him without another sound. Jongin can hear the fading patter of Chanyeol’s feet as he walks and the click of the bathroom door as it slides shut, a telltale minute of silence as Chanyeol strips off his clothes before the faucet is turned on, replacing it with the gush of water.

The wait seems to last for an eternity. Jongin is kept on edge as his cock strains in his panties, listening to the shower running and the uneasy quiet that echoes in the apartment, void of Chanyeol’s normal rap-renditions of Girls’ Generation’s hit songs. The punishment has already begun; it would be so simple to pull his cock out and pull at his dick until he comes because Chanyeol isn’t even here, but he knows he can’t and the easy temptation makes him aware of the seconds that drag by. He fidgets, picks at the hem of his shirt, shucks off his socks, all to pass the time until Chanyeol returns, damp hair falling into his eyes and clad in the pair of loose boxers he usually wears to sleep.

The room is hotter than it had been seconds ago. Chanyeol’s skin is pale and his torso is toned, still glistening with tiny droplets of water. He doesn’t smile at Jongin when he comes in, but he doesn’t ignore Jongin either. Jongin can’t tell what he’s thinking, and it’s a little bit scary as much as it’s exciting. At last, he sits down on the bed again, pushing his hair back from his forehead, and motions for Jongin to sit on his lap, expression unchanging. Jongin brackets Chanyeol’s thighs with his bare legs and brings his arms up to Chanyeol’s shoulders to steady himself as Chanyeol wraps an arm around Jongin’s waist. Chanyeol’s hand splays flat on Jongin’s back; it’s warm and big and Jongin’s cock twitches in anticipation as he realises those very same hands will be the ones to spank him hard, to paint his ass with reddening marks. As Chanyeol nests his hand in Jongin’s hair to bring him in for a kiss, he closes his eyes and their lips press together and as soon as Jongin feels the heat on his mouth, it’s possessive, it’s assertive and it’s everything he loves about Chanyeol.

At first, Chanyeol lets Jongin crush their lips together, skipping the slow and sweet because neither of them have ever been patient people. Jongin presses into the space between them, fingers curling against Chanyeol’s shoulderblade, and though he kisses hard, the fight in him soon dissipates as Chanyeol licks at the bow of his mouth and sinks his teeth into Jongin’s lower lip, coaxing Jongin’s lips apart. It’s thrilling, submitting completely to Chanyeol’s control and Jongin whimpers as Chanyeol tugs at his hair. The sex is an amazing bonus, but there’s more to it than just carnal, animal fucking—Jongin trusts Chanyeol with his body and his heart so he lets Chanyeol do this. Had asked Chanyeol, and Chanyeol had indulged him. Dominated him. Chanyeol is tall and has warm hands and a kind smile, but this is a side of him that only Jongin gets to see. From his shower, he smells like vanilla and autumn rain, and suddenly Jongin feels so fond. There is a moment when Chanyeol locks their gazes and pulls away to smile, a lopsided quirk of his lips as he bumps their mouths together chastely, so different from what Jongin’s expecting that it makes his heart tremble, and then as sudden as it comes, it’s gone.

Leaning forward just _so_ so that his breath ghosts over the shell of Jongin’s ear with a phantom touch, Chanyeol whispers, “Jongin,” and Jongin moans because his name sounds like pure filth from Chanyeol’s mouth, voice is like sugared vodka that burns into red hot arousal in the pit of Jongin’s belly. “You know I have to punish you for being a bad, bad boy. It’s the only way you’re going to learn, you know. Discipline.”

“Discipline,” Jongin repeats, and Chanyeol nips at his mouth to chastise him for speaking out of turn.

“Are you going to take my cock, Jongin, take it like a good boy? Are you going to beg for my cock? Are you going to suck my cock until I come all over your pretty little face?” says Chanyeol. His voice is rough and Jongin can’t help himself when he rocks his hips to grind his dick against Chanyeol’s crotch. He feels vulnerable with Chanyeol’s hands on his back, in his hair, and god, it’s hot. “Are you going to let me finger you? How many can you take—three, four? Maybe five? But baby”—and he pulls at Jongin’s hair again, to make a point—“it won’t be as good as my cock, will it? Do you think you’ve earned it?”

“No, Sir,” answers Jongin. “I’ve not been…good.”

“Tell me why you haven’t been a good boy, Jongin,” says Chanyeol. He brings a hand up to smooth a curl of hair behind Jongin’s ear and Jongin follows the heat like a puppet on a string. “Tell me why you’ve been a bad boy.”

“I—I’m undisciplined,” Jongin says. He stutters; the dominance and control that Chanyeol has over him, just with a few simple words and his fingers, dancing over the newly embedded piercings in Jongin’s earlobe and drifting down from the dimple in his spine to the apex of his legs where they rest on his dick, is titillating. Jongin can feel Chanyeol’s cock pressing up the cleft of his ass through the flimsy panties and Chanyeol’s underwear, and a sudden surge of satisfaction goes through his body as he realises that it’s him who has made Chanyeol like this. But he remembers that there’s a difference between him and Chanyeol—Chanyeol can want, but he needs. And that, Jongin thinks, is exactly why Chanyeol is his daddy and why he is so helpless in Chanyeol’s grasp.

The thumb that’d been brushing over the soft spot beneath Jongin’s ear pauses, and Chanyeol presses a kiss to Jongin’s jaw. Under any other circumstance, it’d be endearing, but here, it’s a strict admonition: he says, “And you are…?”

“Sorry, Sir,” says Jongin.

Chanyeol sighs, and a sort of guiltiness washes over Jongin that he’s disappointed Chanyeol, which only serves as motivation for him to be a good boy so Chanyeol will reward him. “Sorry means you won’t do it again, but that’s what you’d said last time and look what happened.” He pulls at the waistband of Jongin’s panties, right where a small white bow is sewn, and releases it, letting it snap back against Jongin’s skin. It stings, leaves a faint mark that’ll soon disappear into the darker bruises. “It seems like last time’s punishment wasn’t harsh enough. What punishment do you think you should get? What punishment do you think you _deserve_?”

“Spanking, Sir.”

“I think I agree with you,” Chanyeol says, and that is how Jongin ends up like this, on his elbows and knees, cheek pressed against the pillow.

His shirt is strewn somewhere across the room on the floor; Chanyeol’d tugged it off before he’d traced the sharp lines of Jongin’s toned body and with a hitch in his voice, told Jongin to get on the bed, on all fours. Jongin can’t see Chanyeol from this angle but he knows Chanyeol is behind him. He can hear the rustle of the sheets as Chanyeol moves, can feel Chanyeol’s presence, and he’s so hard even though Chanyeol hasn’t even touched dick yet. The air is thrumming with heavy arousal and Jongin is hyperaware of everything—Chanyeol’s soft murmurs into his skin, the glide of Chanyeol’s fingers over his ass, the realisation that Chanyeol is so close to where Jongin wants him and at the same time, not quite—so it comes, unexpected, when Chanyeol brings his hand to slap the curve of Jongin’s ass and Jongin is too surprised to muffle a yelp.

The first smack always hurts the most, but it’s the kind of hurt that blurs the line between pleasure and pain and makes his cock leak in his panties. Jongin groans aloud, clenching his fingers in the sheets beneath him, and very briefly, he hears Chanyeol make a sound of disapproval, the only warning he has before Chanyeol spanks him once more. This time, he’s prepared; he buries his face in the pillow, breathing in the scent of Chanyeol’s shampoo and cologne and biting his lip so he doesn’t make a sound as he listens to the slap against his skin. His face is blushing hotly, but he likes this. Always has. It’s strangely thrilling because Chanyeol is a nice guy, smiles a lot and puts smiley faces on his essays, and seeing him like this makes Jongin dizzy. The throbbing between his thighs is almost unbearable and he wants to touch himself so badly, but Chanyeol hasn’t given him permission yet and it’s an innate sense that’s stopping him from reaching down and jacking off. He’s already been bad enough today. Discipline, Chanyeol had said. Jongin doesn’t want to disobey him again.

“Good,” Chanyeol says lowly, smoothing a hand over the pink blotches that are starting to bloom on his skin. “Good boy.”

The praise goes straight to Jongin’s cock. It’s a simple utterance, but it’s praise all the same.

“You’re learning,” says Chanyeol. He doesn’t bother to take off Jongin’s panties and just shifts aside the material so he can run a finger down the cleft of Jongin’s ass. It’s cool and slick, and listening so carefully, Jongin wonders when he had missed the click of the bottle cap opening.

What is obvious is that Chanyeol is teasing, even if Jongin can’t tell what he will do next. Like this, the panties pull against his cock tighter, and he’s sure that they’re soaked through. He feels it clinging to his skin, wants to tug it off and down his thighs so he can jerk off already, but the third, fourth and fifth smacks come consecutively, each one stinging more than the last. He can just imagine what he looks like: debauched and filthy, legs trembling with his ass high up in the air, following the smooth curve of his bowed back. His cock, trapped in his panties; his chest rising with the shallow breaths he’s taking, a semblance of control he’s trying to maintain, when really, it’s inches away from slipping from his grasp.

From this angle, if he turns his head a little, he can see Chanyeol through his heavy-lidded eyes. Chanyeol’s mouth is set in an impassive line, but his eyes are nearly completely black, and for a moment, Jongin loses himself in them. Chanyeol’s self-control is impressive because whereas one of Jongin’s elbows is slipping down, his shoulder falling to the mattress, and there’s heat and fire pulsing in his veins, Chanyeol is…calm. His hair is a little mussed up and his mouth is red and kiss-swollen, but he’s calm and he isn’t in the state that Jongin is in. He isn’t so desirous and Jongin feels a bit pathetic that he is. Chanyeol finds Jongin looking at him and very quietly, he whispers, “Be a good boy next time, Jongin,” and Jongin squeezes his eyes shut as Chanyeol spanks him again, stifling a moan with his teeth on his lips.

When Jongin’s hand slides down, involuntarily, Chanyeol doesn’t say anything, so Jongin doesn’t stop. Chanyeol hasn’t told him that he’s allowed yet, but he can’t handle it anymore. He feels like he’s going to combust, fire licking at his skin. He can’t stop the desperation that’s coursing through his body, and it’s this desperation that makes his hands push down the front of his panties. He pushes it just below his balls, just so he can tug his dick out, and wraps his fingers around it, moaning as he pulls at his cock. Reprimand comes in the form of harder smacks; Jongin runs his thumb over the head of his cock when an echoing slap resounds, smearing precome down the length. His ass hurts more with every hit, and with every smack, there’s a spike of intense pleasure that washes over the pain, hand stroking his erection.

Five spanks turn into ten; ten turns into fifteen, and Jongin has given up on silencing the sounds escaping from his mouth. His lips are cherry and bitten as he pumps at his dick almost frantically with a burning need to come. His cock is hard and heavy as he rubs his palm against it, moaning out _Please Sir,_ and, _More._ Chanyeol seems to be spanking him until he comes, and Jongin wants to, so much, but he knows that Daddy isn’t so kind.

“That’s enough,” Chanyeol says with an air of finality. He runs a hand over the warmness of Jongin’s ass, slightly cooler than Jongin anticipates so he trembles, and Jongin’s fingers fall from his cock, letting it slap against his belly.

There’s a shuffling sound and only now does Jongin realised that he has his eyes squeezed shut so he can’t see what Chanyeol is doing. He wants more. He can’t ever get enough of Chanyeol, and when he feels two fingers hooking under his chin to tilt his head up, his heart quickens, adrenaline racing through his blood. His eyes open, blinking through the wetness of tears that have formed on his lashes, and peers up at Chanyeol, who has the same look on his face as when he wants to kiss Jongin. He half-expects Chanyeol to pull him up, to crush their lips together with the neediness that Jongin feels, but Chanyeol just cups his jaw and runs his fingers over soft skin of Jongin’s cheek.

“You are so gorgeous,” whispers Chanyeol, and the sudden adoration makes Jongin flush, fingers curling against his hip because Chanyeol has spontaneity mastered to an art. “You look so wrecked. Wrecking yourself, nearly coming from Daddy spanking you. It’s not really much of a punishment if you enjoy it that much, is it, Jongin?”

Jongin’s mind feels fuzzy and the words are stuck in his throat. Chanyeol presses his thumb to the corner of Jongin’s lips, and Jongin manages to stammer out, “No, Sir.”

“But  you’ve done well today, Jongin,” says Chanyeol. “You’re my baby, Daddy’s baby, aren’t you? Beautiful. Do you want a reward, Jongin?”

“Please…Daddy.”

“What do you want, Jongin?” Chanyeol asks. His voice is so deep, barely above a murmur, yet it sounds so loud to Jongin’s ears.

“Daddy’s cock,” says Jongin. “Please.”

Chanyeol swipes Jongin’s bottom lip with his thumb. Instinctively, Jongin’s tongue darts out to follow the ghost trail, and the edge of Chanyeol’s lips quirks up, closest to a smile that Jongin has seen.

“Open wide, then,” says Chanyeol, and Jongin obliges, parting his lips.

He’s always been told he’s got a cocksucking mouth and in this instance, it proves true as Chanyeol nudges in his cock and makes a soft exhalation in the wet heat of Jongin’s mouth. Chanyeol’s hands thread through Jongin’s hair, holding him there between his thighs as Jongin curiously, tentatively, flicks his tongue against the head of Chanyeol’s cock and tastes. It’s familiar but no less intoxicating, and already, Jongin is craving for more.

And Chanyeol has plenty. He has a big cock—Jongin remembers, during the beginning of their relationship before they’d delved into Jongin’s surprisingly kinky desires, the first time he’d seen Chanyeol’s cock, he’d stared for about two minutes solid until Chanyeol had mumbled embarrassingly and dickslapped him on the cheek to get him to suck it. Now, Chanyeol has no qualms about thrusting his cock in. It stretches Jongin’s lips till the corners turn white and he knows he is not the one in control here; one hand is on Chanyeol’s thigh, nails marking crescents into the pale flesh, and the other is around the base of Chanyeol’s dick, sliding up what he can’t reach with his mouth, but he is not the one in control. It’s Chanyeol who has a hand cradling Jongin’s head, pushing it down onto his cock; it’s Chanyeol who is thrusting his hips, lazily, as Jongin moans around his cock, rubbing himself against the bed.

He wants to come. The waistband of his panties is tight under his balls and his cock is lying against his stomach, trapped between his abdomen and the mattress. Some time after the eleventh smack, his legs had collapsed, shaking, and he’s sprawled out on the bed, his hand circled around his cock and Chanyeol’s dick sliding into his mouth, his tongue licking up the shaft. He pumps his cock, digging his thumb into his slit when he reaches the top, and he wishes he had lube or spit on his hand as he hollows his cheeks and lets Chanyeol fuck his mouth. Wrapping his fingers around Jongin’s hand, around the bottom of his cock, Chanyeol fucks in until the tip hits the back of Jongin’s throat, letting out a low moan that sends a rush of pride to Jongin’s dick, making him jack off faster. Jongin has had enough practice at this that he doesn’t gag, not the first time, anyway, but as Chanyeol continues to fuck his mouth, not unlike the way he’d fuck Jongin’s ass with deep rhythmic thrusts, Jongin’s chin drips messily with spit and precome and it’s so fucking _filthy._

Abruptly, Chanyeol pulls his cock out, and immediately, Jongin lets out a whine from the loss of heaviness in his mouth. His hand stills around his own dick, even though he wants, he wants, he wants, and Chanyeol knows because he says, “Daddy’s not going to do everything for you, Jongin. Daddy isn’t going to spoon-feed you. Work for your reward.”

Reaching out for Chanyeol’s dick, Jongin holds it at the base, his fingers rubbing at Chanyeol’s balls. Chanyeol groans lowly in his throat as Jongin follows the length of his vein with hot stripes along his cock. He does it how Chanyeol likes it—messy and slow, revelling in Chanyeol’s fingers tightening in his hair and the satisfactory heaviness of Chanyeol’s cock on his tongue, and it’s a stark contrast to how he’s stroking his erection, short quick pumps that sound so dirty with his mouth on Chanyeol’s dick. His cheeks suck in against Chanyeol’s cock, hollowing his mouth, and when he swallows around Chanyeol’s cock, Chanyeol moans long and loud, hips jerking and hands tugging at Jongin’s hair much harder than he intends to, and the coil in Jongin’s gut tightens with the need to come.

And he does, trembling from his toes to the tips of his fingers. He moans _Daddy_ and it’s muffled by Chanyeol’s dick as Chanyeol’s cock drags out of his mouth, tracing Jongin’s swollen lips to coat them with a film of translucent precome. Jongin’s head lolls onto Chanyeol’s thigh, Chanyeol’s hands coming down to stroke Jongin’s hair through his orgasm as Jongin curls in on himself and spurts come over his abdomen and chest, cock twitching in his still-moving hand. One of Chanyeol’s hands pats Jongin’s head as if he’s a particularly well-behaved pet and the other hand runs through the mess on Jongin’s chest to his chin. His fingers press into Jongin’s mouth gently, like a silent apology for his earlier roughness, and Jongin opens his mouth, licking at Chanyeol’s fingers as a warmth blooms in his chest.

“Coming from sucking my cock,” Chanyeol says. “Gorgeous, so gorgeous.”

Jongin gazes up at him through his dazed eyes and thick lashes and says, imploringly, “Fuck me, Daddy. Fuck me, please.”

Chanyeol has always been a believer that actions speak louder than words and his reply comes when Jongin is lying on his back in a split second and Chanyeol is above him, cupping his cheeks. His hair sticks to his forehead from sweat and Chanyeol brushes it away with soft hands. From this position, Jongin is completely submissive to Chanyeol and all he can do is stare into Chanyeol’s eyes are dark, dilated and half-lidded in a way that Jongin finds inexplicably sexy. Moments later, his eyes flick down to Chanyeol’s mouth, parted lips bitten red, and Jongin overcome with the urge to kiss him. When Chanyeol eventually leans down to press their mouths together, Jongin feels it through his entire body.

He’s sensitive from his orgasm but it doesn’t stop his cock from stirring up in interest as he spreads his legs wider so Chanyeol can fit himself between them. Chanyeol tugs at the panties, over Jongin’s tanned thighs and off, tossing them away. “Up,” he says quietly, and Jongin lifts them, hooking his arms around his knees to hold them there. It’s a while before Chanyeol does anything and Jongin tries to look down, but Chanyeol’s hot breath on the juncture of his thigh makes him moan and tip his head back, eyes closing. Chanyeol is so close, and then he’s there, a finger pressing at the tight flutter of Jongin’s hole, wet with spit. It’s not uncomfortable, but it burns a little, the sort that Jongin craves, as Chanyeol pushes it in, past his rim, with not nearly enough lube.

“More,” Jongin whimpers. “Daddy, please.”

“You ask so nicely,” says Chanyeol. “Daddy’s proud. I’m proud of you, Jongin.”

Jongin’s fingers curl into his thighs with pride and his nails dig into the firm flesh from something else entirely when Chanyeol pulls his finger out and returns, dripping cold lube. It’s not enough to sate Jongin’s desperation and he pushes back with his hips for more, cock leaking a sticky mess on his stomach. He fucks Jongin languidly with a single finger until Jongin begs, and then he presses two more in and crooks them and Jongin’s hair rasps as his head rubs against the pillow, moaning at the jolt of pleasure through his body. He cannot see Chanyeol but he knows Chanyeol has a smirk on his face because he fucks his fingers in faster and harder, hitting the spot that makes these breathy moans tumble from Jongin’s lips.

Chanyeol likes to play so he stretches Jongin until Jongin almost tips over the edge for the second time, hips rocking fluidly to meet the forceful push of Chanyeol’s fingers. Just as Jongin thinks he’s going to come again, Chanyeol pulls out lewdly, eliciting a frustrated sigh. Jongin feels a wetness on his thigh from Chanyeol wiping his hand clean, and then there’s the anticipated click of the bottle as he listens for the sounds of Chanyeol slicking up his cock, salacious and downright filthy. Chanyeol slips his dick between Jongin’s asscheeks, up and down teasingly, and Jongin doesn’t know how Chanyeol has managed to keep his sanity for so long because he feels like he’s going to burst if Chanyeol doesn’t fuck him already. He’s been waiting for so long.

“Please,” he says, and Chanyeol’s eyes are so dark as he draws himself up to meet Jongin’s mouth, kissing him hard and dirty. He slides a hand to cradle Jongin’s head, threading through sweat-damp hair, and like this, Jongin’s body is folded almost in half. He’s flexible enough to take it though, Chanyeol knows he is, and he likes it like this anyway because he wants to kiss Chanyeol. Chanyeol’s mouth is hot and Jongin feels safe in his hands, in the hands that’d been spanking him earlier. His stomach swoops as Chanyeol bites on his bottom lip and flicks his tongue inside Jongin’s mouth, sucking at his tongue till Jongin whines and jerks his hips, Chanyeol’s cock sliding in the cleft of his ass.

Finally, Chanyeol pulls away, always the one to initiate and finish, and licks at his puffy red lips. “Daddy’s going to fucking _ruin_ you, Jongin,” he murmurs, pushing in his cock.

Jongin moans Chanyeol’s name as Chanyeol slowly fills him up full of cock, dick pressing against his hole till he bottoms out. He lets out a hiss of raw pleasure, like a man who’s just gotten everything he’s wanted, and his cock is hard and thick, solid and substantial inside Jongin. Jongin wriggles his hips, trying to drive Chanyeol’s dick in deeper, but Chanyeol splays his hands on Jongin’s pelvis, holding him there. There is always a higher degree of control—what Chanyeol wants, Chanyeol gets. And suddenly, as he slides his cock back out, Jongin realises, like this, he can’t touch himself, can’t jerk off when his hands are around his knees.

As usual, Chanyeol starts off slow, moving his hips languidly so his cock fucks into Jongin’s ass shallowly, barely enough for Jongin. His head tilts to the side, licking up Jongin’s bared neck from the way Jongin’s head is tipped back, sinking into the pillow. It’s slightly ticklish, Chanyeol painting kisses on Jongin’s skin, and his cock feels so good, so full, in Jongin’s ass, and the multitude of sensations makes Jongin’s mind cloudy. He’s hyperaware and unaware at once: he feels the slide of Chanyeol’s cock inside him, brushing against his walls, and the ridged head of Chanyeol’s cock against the rim of his hole, and at the same time, he doesn’t feel anything but Chanyeol’s eyes on him, looking at him so affectionately as he whispers, “Good boy. You’ve done so well tonight; Daddy is so proud,” into his mouth.

Jongin’s legs wrap around Chanyeol’s waist, his ankles locking at the small of Chanyeol’s back, and his hands fall from his knees so they can cup the nape of Chanyeol’s neck, pulling him in for feverish kisses. Jongin could gladly kiss Chanyeol forever; it’s sloppy and it’s hot and it’s everything about Chanyeol that Jongin loves. Chanyeol’s thrusts are speeding up, driving his cock into Jongin’s hole with lewd slaps as his thighs hit Jongin’s ass and wet squelches of lube. Jongin feels complete with Chanyeol’s cock inside him, fucking him with nearing desperation, and Jongin can’t stop moaning into Chanyeol’s mouth as a particular thrust of Chanyeol’s hip causes his cock to hit Jongin’s prostate, pleasure rippling through his body. It’s good, so good, and Jongin’s toes curl in the air, panting and whimpering for more, more, more.

“You’re so greedy, Jongin,” Chanyeol says, voice broken and hitching with moans as his thrusts stutter. Jongin raises his hips in tandem with Chanyeol’s thrusts and Chanyeol’s cock fucks him just perfectly in all the right ways. “Always asking for more. Is Daddy’s cock not enough for you?”

“It— _ah_ —is,” Jongin almost sobs out, overcome with pleasure. Chanyeol’s dick is pushing into his hole quickly, erratically, and they’re both nearing the end. Chanyeol’s large hand moves down between their bodies where Jongin’s cock is pressed between both their stomachs, messily oozing out precome, and he wraps his long fingers around it, tightly holding the base so Jongin can’t come, not yet.

“But you still want more,” says Chanyeol, lips brushing against Jongin’s ear. His voice is rough and low, and Jongin’s had more wet dreams than he cares to admit about Chanyeol talking dirty to him in that voice of his, like pure sex. “Greedy. What if I fucked you in front of the entire class, Jongin? Would you like that? Everyone’s eyes on you, watching me wreck you with my dick? Would you like that? Or maybe you’d like someone else to fuck you. Maybe you’d like your friend Sehun to fuck your filthy mouth whilst I fuck your ass; maybe you’d like us to fuck your tight, pretty hole together because you crave cock, don’t you, Jongin?”

“Only yours,” Jongin huffs out in between moans. Chanyeol jerks his cock as a reward, hand stroking upwards tantalisingly slowly.

“Good boy,” Chanyeol says. “Daddy will indulge you because Daddy loves you, so much.”

Chanyeol braces himself; Jongin’s long given up on biting his lip to stop his moans because Chanyeol’s cock feels indescribably amazing inside him, thrusting against his prostate and making his back arch with pleasure each time Chanyeol fucks his cock in. His thrusts are arrhythmic now, hips snapping with no real sense of pattern or beat, but fucking in fast and deep as his hand jacks off Jongin’s cock, thumb swiping over the sensitive head. Jongin thinks his spine might break because it’s curved so high, but it’s worth the pleasure that washes through him like a tide. Chanyeol comes before him, hips jerking to a stop as he presses his cock in as deep as he can, burying himself inside Jongin. His cock throbs as he spills his come in Jongin’s ass, Jongin clenching around him as he’s filled with warmth, and Chanyeol moans into Jongin’s neck, fingers curling tightly in Jongin’s hair.

Once he pulls out, he kisses Jongin hungrily, distracting him from the come that leaks out from his hole and drips down his ass. His mouth is hot and his hand is desperate, stroking Jongin’s cock and swallowing Jongin’s moans easily. Jongin thrusts into Chanyeol’s hand, into the tight ring of wet fingers, and comes with a shudder, more intensely than the first. The pleasure crests in his body, hole clenching around nothing and cock throbbing in Chanyeol’s grasp as Chanyeol pumps his cock through his orgasm, kissing his mouth like today is forever and he doesn’t want this moment to pass. Jongin’s come leaves white streaks across his chest and his belly, tensing as the last of his orgasm fades away, and it takes at least a few minutes for his breathing to steady out, his legs slipping back down as his muscles relax.

Chanyeol kisses him through it all and kisses him after; his lips are wet and soft and warm and he tastes so sweet that Jongin presses him impossibly closer, despite the slick and sticky come between them. Right now, he couldn’t care less about that; all he sees is Chanyeol grinning down at him and pushing away the strands of hair that have fallen into his eyes, any semblance of his Daddy persona disappearing. Chanyeol bumps their smiles together clumsily and nuzzles Jongin’s cheek, and Jongin has never quite gotten used to how quickly Chanyeol is able to change from Ultimate Sex God to You’re a Doofus and Why am I Dating You???

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, okay?” Chanyeol says in the hush of their post-sex haze. “I know you’re a good boy, so stay here.”

“I don’t even think I can move,” says Jongin. “You wrecked my ass.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault,” replies Chanyeol, standing up on wobbly legs and holding his hands up in defence. Jongin misses the heat of his body already and pulls the sheets over himself, whining a little. “I’m not the one who thought it’d be a good idea to wear panties during a lecture and take dirty pictures to tease my TA for an easy grade.”

“But it was _your_ idea to buy them in the first place,” Jongin retorts. The aftermath of sex is catching up to him; suddenly, he feels tired and sleepy and completely boneless, eyes threatening to droop shut.

“…Touché. Whatever. Let’s not be pedantic.” Jongin gives him a look and his eyes soften, smiling with the stupid grin that makes him look like a silly puppy. “I’m gonna get a towel to clean you up. I’ll be back right away,” reassures Chanyeol.

“And I’ll be waiting,” says Jongin.

But when Chanyeol comes back, Jongin is already asleep, long lashes fanned out against his cheeks. He misses the way Chanyeol smiles fondly at him, the way Chanyeol wipes off the come with a warm, damp towel, and the way Chanyeol writes _I love you_ with the kisses on Jongin’s jaw before he buries his face in the crook of Jongin’s neck and closes his eyes.

 

 

 

Jongin wakes up many hours later to a shrill beeping noise and instinctively reaches for the alarm clock on Chanyeol’s dresser. He squints at it; it reads _09:24_ and he hurls it across the room with the intent to kill. It is an abomination to be up this early; however, once he’s up, he can’t fall back asleep. His body feels groggy and tired and still entirely fucked out from last night, unprepared for the morning rays of sunshine, but there’s still a bit of the afterglow humming through him and he smiles dumbly into the pillow. Thinking back on yesterday is embarrassing; even though he isn’t one to get embarrassed during sex, doing and saying all these things that’s totally unexpected of a guy who wears oversized sweaters and reads too much shoujo manga, the soreness of his ass and the crumpled sheets beneath him where his hands had clenched from pleasure makes him blush.

When the beeping doesn’t stop, regardless of his homerun throw, he sighs and rolls onto his side, seeing an empty space where Chanyeol is supposed to be. He frowns, then the sounds of clanking and chairs scraping across the floor filters through the door from the kitchen, and he realises that Chanyeol’s probably already up, (attempting) to make breakfast. Every bone in his body feels heavy at the same time as he feels light-headed from the affection that rushes through him, and reluctantly, he pulls himself out of bed, groping around the floor to grab one of Chanyeol’s old T-shirts and shorts. After a moment of thought, he yanks his blanket too and wraps his around himself, waddling to the bathroom like a squishy teddy-bear burrito.

He washes up quickly, skipping the shower because he has an idea in his mind that involves Chanyeol being naked and a half-used bottle of shower gel. The kitchen is just a few seconds away and as Jongin enters, the first thing he spots is Chanyeol standing on a chair, trying to search for the elusive off-button of the smoke alarm. He clears his throat and suppresses a grin when Chanyeol bumps his head on the ceiling in surprise.

“What are you doing?” Jongin asks over the alarm.

Chanyeol finally manages to turn it off and clambers down, beaming sheepishly at Jongin. It is times like these when Jongin finds it difficult to believe that Chanyeol, the guy who gives the world’s best cuddles and always pays for the takeout, is the same person whom he calls Daddy. “I tried to make breakfast,” he says as an explanation. “Go back to sleep. I can just run out and buy something that’s, y’know, edible.”

Jongin yawns. “Well, I’m awake now,” he says, and melts into the warmth of Chanyeol’s body as Chanyeol circles him in his fuzzy sweater-covered arms. He wriggles his own arms out of his blanket, bumping his head against Chanyeol’s chin, and feels the low vibrations as Chanyeol mumbles into his hair, “Mornin’, then. How are you feeling?”

“All right,” says Jongin, and then, he adds, “Sore. And sticky.”

He can’t quite bring himself to say, _And I really love you,_ but he thinks Chanyeol already knows.

Chanyeol’s laugh rumbles low in his chest and whatever he wants to say next, Jongin muffles with his mouth as he presses a kiss to Chanyeol’s lips. Chanyeol is a bit taller than him but Chanyeol’s knees knock into his as he crouches so Jongin doesn’t have to tip his head up. Jongin can taste coffee as he licks into Chanyeol’s mouth and his eyes flutter open, though he doesn’t remember when they’d closed, and Chanyeol looks kind of gorgeous like this, freckles dotting his cheeks and the sun glowing on his skin. His hair looks so…floofy, sticking up at odd angles in an imitation of atrocious bedhead, and Jongin finds it weirdly endearing, petting the back of Chanyeol’s head. He feels like right now, there’s no place in the world that he’d rather be than here. Except maybe Disneyland. Because Disneyland.

“If you wanna shower, I’m gonna power-walk to the convenience store and pick up some waffles. Do you want anything else?” Chanyeol says, hands tracing mindless patterns down Jongin’s spine.

“Nah, I have an even better idea,” Jongin says.

“Which is…?”

Jongin can’t help but grin at the look on Chanyeol’s face when, wordlessly, he edges Chanyeol back till he knocks into the kitchen table. He slides his hands into the back pockets of Chanyeol’s pyjama pants and squeezes, watching as Chanyeol’s expression turns from ‘oh my god, I’m dating an incredibly cute boy and I’m so in love’ to ‘oh my god, I’m dating the incredibly cute boy of my wet dreams and I’m ridiculously in love,’ and the role reversal makes Jongin giddy.

“Oh,” Chanyeol breathes out.

“Yeah,” says Jongin. “Oh.”

They don’t end up eating breakfast until an hour later when Jongin comes out of the bathroom with a limp in his step, Chanyeol trailing after him and smiling dopily.


End file.
